


Even

by chimneysmoke (recension)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recension/pseuds/chimneysmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ron & Draco, 'You’re not as stupid as you look.'"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even

**Author's Note:**

> For the _Welcome Home_ Harry Potter LJ ficathon.
> 
> Original prompt: "Ron & Draco, 'You’re not as stupid as you look.'"

I realized far too late you said Ron/Draco so sorry! But this is what came out so I'm posting it anyway with apologies.

Ginny pressed her hand against Draco's, sliding their palms to touch. "Be nice," she begged him.

"I will be civil," Draco spoke clearly.

"That's not what I asked," she sighed, smiling brightly as the door to the Burrow opened and her mother appeared.

Molly welcomed them inside, shucking their cloaks of the snow and the cold as they moved into the crowded house.

"Hi Mum," Ginny kissed her mother's cheek, "Can we help you with anything?"

"Oh no," Molly smiled, "Just play guard for your beau, hm?"

The room was familiar, though Draco had never been there before. Familiar but uncomfortable in how hard it was trying to be comfortable. There wasn't a surface or inch of wall not covered with a different material or aesthetic and thrown together it wasn't his taste, but there was something patchwork about Ginny and he supposed this was where it all started for her.

Draco stood at the edge of the living room refusing to enter it as conversation died at the mere sight of him. She'd told him they'd been warned he would be there but he knew immediately he'd been lied to.

She moved to his side and smiled impishly. "I lied."

"I know."

"Everyone!" Ginny called out for attention, her brothers, their girlfriends and children seeming to still and stare at her if they weren't already. "This is my boyfriend Draco, Draco this is everyone..."

"If any of you are _uncivil_ to him, derogatory, _pick fights_ you'll find your favorite body parts severed and tacked on the mantle with the stockings," she put her hand on the mantle for emphasis, the woolen stockings shaking on their nails. "Understood?"

A few nods were the only confirmation she got before cheerfully breaking into a smile, "Alright then! Happy Christmas everyone! It's lovely to see you, resume your... whatever," she waved her hand before turning back to Draco. "I need a drink. Would you like a drink?" 

"Strong," he agrees softly, nervously, wanting to follow her but knowing he should stay should someone approach him.

He expected the first to be one of the older brothers, maybe the one who worked for the Minister, or the one who had been in Romania during the war, but it wasn't. It was Ron.

"So, _Draco,_ " Ron said the word so forcefully it might as well have been his surname, but he supposed that qualified as 'uncivil' behavior.

"Ron," Draco said as evenly as he could, intent on proving he was less bothered by the awkwardness.

"You know, you almost killed me. Twice," Ron turned in closer to Draco in an effort to keep his voice down. "But I survived, and Harry and I saved your life in more ways than one so if you..."

"Ron," Ginny frowned, two glasses full of something crimson and—with any luck—potentially liver-killing.

"Someone has to give him the speech."

"Dad already gave him the speech," Ginny said softly, handing one of the glasses to her boyfriend.

"I'd like to put it all in the past, if we could," Draco found himself saying, offering a free hand for a shake.

"We're not _even,_ Malfoy," Ron murmured and turned away.

Hermione called out for her husband up the stairs, her voice a tone of alarm that registered for everyone in the house. They all filed up the stairs without asking.

Ron's childhood bedroom was crammed full of furniture, multiple beds and a crib, but in the middle of the the room was the infant Rose who was turning a strange color of purple in a bouncing seat. Hermione had her bag open and was tugging out every item she could think as the baby gave a hiccuping wail.

"She's _swallowed_ something," Hermione whimpered, pulling open a book to try and think of any charm she could. "She won't spit it up!"

Ron picked up the baby clapping her on the back like it would help. "Mum!" he called out. "Probably not harmful... I can't imagine what was in here that she could eat that would cause her harm."

"She is turning _purple,_ and _crying,_ Ron!" Hermione whimpered, thumbing through pages. "We have to go to St. Mungo's."

Draco pushed past his girlfriend into the room crowded with furniture, giving a soft, friendly wave to Hermione even though it only unsettled the woman. They were not familiar. "May I?" He asked Ron, opening his arms for the baby.

Ron's grip on the infant tightened but the baby wailed louder, her voice wheezing now as if she was having trouble breathing.

"Ron," Ginny warned her brother.

He handed Draco the infant very carefully, holding his breath as Draco produced his wand and aimed it at the baby. Hermione's stare bore into him as he murmured a charm and carefully dragged his wand along the throat of the child. With a gurgle and another cry, Rose coughed up a string of beads that he grabbed from the child's mouth before handing off the baby to its mother.

"We would have figured it out eventually," Ron said sourly, under his breath.

"What... how?" Hermione asked, running her hands over Rose's skin as the babe returned to a normal color.

"We have to use that charm on the cat all the time at the shop," he explains. "Dervish and Banges. The cat eats anything that falls to the floor, chokes on it or worse," he handed the saliva-coated beads to Ron, casting a scouring charm on his own hand. "Indigo beads, full of ink. Team favor of the Indian National Quidditch team. Last played in the Quidditch Cup three years ago. Not something I'd leave lying about a bedroom."

"I didn't..." Ron murmured. Hermione's glare shut up her husband.

"Thank you, Draco," she said softly, grateful, hugging the child to her chest.

Ron shuffled the beads to his left hand and offered his right for a shake, "Now we're even."

"Deal," Draco said softly, shaking the hand in truce.


End file.
